


Mind and Body

by Otaku67



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Abuse, Drugs, F/M, Getting Back Together, Love Triangles, M/M, Molestation, Prostitution, Unrequited Lust
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 12:39:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5585692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otaku67/pseuds/Otaku67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Armin Arlert can't seem to hold a job. He's extremely bright and a dedicated worker- but no matter what job he lands, he always ends up sexually harassed. Dumped by his drug-abusing boyfriend and living alone without a friend, Armin turns to selling himself. Things start to change for him when a girl named Annie comes to him not for sex, but just to talk. But as Armin begins to develop feelings for her, Eren returns sober and begging for forgiveness. Add persistent customers like Jean Kirstein to the mix, and even Armin, smart as he is, can't figure out what to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mind and Body

Stale, heavy air. Dim light or no light at all. The reek of alcohol on unwashed skin, rancid breath. Creaking of bedsprings. Whimpers from a voice that seemed so foreign, even though it was his own. Pain, throbbing and filling, disgustingly pleasurable in a sickeningly sweet way.

This was the life Armin Arlert lived every evening. This was the life he had chosen for himself.

“Whew,  _ that  _ was a good session. How much do I owe ya, lil cutie?”

Good session. No, there was no such thing as a  _ good session.  _ Nothing about this process was good. But Armin had to pretend that it was, and answer the man’s question regardless. “Ten dollars,” he breathed just above a whisper.

”Damn, pretty cheap! A’ight, lemme get my wallet outta my pants.”

Armin wasn’t really listening; only waiting. For the man to give him his money, for the man to leave, for his shift to end, for the welcoming scent of his own apartment. For his life to fix itself. 

“….and, ten! Here ya go.” That much was good to hear, at least. Forcing a grateful smile, Armin reached out for the cash he so well deserved. But the man lifted the bills above his head. “Uh-uh-uh. Gotta gimme  _ one more  _ kiss.”

_ Only if you give me one more dollar,  _ Armin thought of saying. But he kept his mouth shut like a good little boy. He wasn’t strong enough to stand up for himself. Besides, he couldn’t afford this man to take badly to his mouthiness and give him a bad review. His life depended on this shameful job. 

“Oh, _okay…_ ” Armin sighed as cutely as possible. He wanted to gag. The man gave him a nearly-toothless grin and kissed him sloppily on the mouth. Then he pressed the cash onto Armin’s lap before gathering up his belongings and stumbling out of the room, grinning and stark naked.

Armin collected the money in a frenzy, like a starving child gobbling up food. His eyes widened and he counted it all again; had he made a mistake? No, he was correct: it seemed the man was too drunk to be able to recognize numbers, for he had paid him not in ten one-dollar bills, but ten  _ five- _ dollar bills. Fifty dollars. A giddy grin slowly stretched across his shocked expression. What an incredible stroke of luck! He hadn’t been lucky in any aspect for quite a while now. Squealing like a schoolgirl, he scrambled to his bag and stuffed the money in the pocket for safekeeping.

That man was his last customer, and so Armin was dismissed for the night. With a heavy sigh, he unzipped the bag and pulled out his regular clothing. Each day he was presented with a provocative, humiliating costume to wear throughout his shifts (unless his customers’ demands called for taking off his clothes), and in Armin’s case, it usually involved cross-dressing. Today was no different.  The manager couldn’t decide if today called for Armin-the-maid or Armin-the-cat, so right before his shift began, he was handed a maid dress and stockings complete with a bell collar, tail, and ears. It was revolting, but Armin had to flaunt it- at least until the end of his shift. Well, tonight’s shift was over now, and as Armin pulled on his jeans and oversized sweatshirt, he felt something that was sort of like relief. 

Bag slung over his shoulder and outfit folded neatly in the crook of his arm, Armin made his way to the employee dressing room. He dropped the dress in the laundry hamper (hoping with a disgusted shiver that the white stains would come out) and slipped the accessories into a drawer. Someone was pulling on a miniskirt in the corner while yet another person was also putting away their day’s outfit, but Armin did not speak to them. He could hardly call them his coworkers; more like, just some of the other desperate souls trapped in the same part of Hell as him. He hurried out the club’s back door and into the street.

The first thing Armin did upon entering his apartment was check his cell phone. He didn’t get messages often, but he couldn’t complain about that; it just meant he saved money on his phone bill. Still, there was someone he was expecting to hear from. No, maybe not expecting, but  _ hoping for. _ He found himself holding his breath as the phone started up and connected to the internet. No matter how slim the chances were, maybe, just  _ maybe… _

_ NO NEW MESSAGES. _

Armin’s shoulders fell. ...well, of course Eren hadn’t texted him. Why would he? It had been over a month since they last saw each other, and Eren hadn’t contacted him once since then. And the last words he’d said to him…  _ “You’re just a pathetic little BITCH, Armin. You’re useless, I hate you, and you should go fuck yourself!” _ ...or something like that. It was difficult to remember the exact words Eren had spoken when there was so much else going on in that same moment. Hands that used to hold him tenderly were balled into fists, slamming again and again against his skin. Half-drunk bottles smashing, staining the carpet with alcohol. The stale odor of cigarettes tainting the mouth that was gently kissing Armin just a few hours ago. And before Armin could register the pain or shed a tear, Eren was out the door. That was the last Armin had seen or heard from his boyfriend, yet every day he checked his phones with the hope that maybe Eren had texted him.

It was perfectly clear that Armin had found himself in an abusive relationship. Sure, Eren was good to him most of the time. But his temper was hot and short, and easily worsened by the drugs and alcohol that he frequented. Yet this hardly bothered Armin. He knew he was in a bad situation, but unfortunately, he had grown accustomed to being treated like that. As much as every voice of reason in Armin’s head told him he deserved better, he couldn’t help feeling like he was lucky to be in a relationship at all. Eren was the first person to love Armin for more than just his body, and for that Armin would overlook any pain he put him through. Eren would get violent from time to time, yes, but not once had he made unwelcome sexual advances. And Armin had experienced a fair share of unwelcome sexual advances.

In fact, it was because of one of these incidents that Armin found himself working his current job. It wasn’t his first experience with sexual harassment- since his early teenage years, skeevy men and perverted upperclassmen enjoyed having their ways with him. The most recent culprit was his former boss: Erwin Smith. 

Armin worked a part-time desk job in an office building. It seemed uninteresting, but Armin enjoyed it: the pay was decent and the work allowed him to exercise his mind. He was perfectly content…. That is, when he was alone. Each week, the boss would come desk to desk, checking in on his employees’ progress. He often lingered at Armin’s desk longer than anyone else’s, which Armin took as a sign of Mr. Smith appreciating his work ethic. But his ulterior motives soon became clear. It started with subtle touches. Hand lingering on the shoulder, pats on the back… Then Armin noticed the hungry, suggestive glint in his eye whenever he looked at him. Eventually, the day came that Mr. Smith asked Armin to come to his office after his shift ended… And he kissed him. Armin quit his job the next day.

It was a shame, really. Erwin Smith was an intelligent man- Armin found he could have very educated conversations with him when he wasn’t making moves on him. Armin looked up to him. But Armin was cursed with girlishly good looks, and unfortunately that tended to ruin things for him. 

But that didn’t matter now.  _ None _ of it mattered now. Eren, Erwin Smith… Eren was gone and Armin didn’t work for Mr. Smith anymore. He had nothing to worry about anymore. At least that’s what he told himself.

Just like he did every night, Armin made himself a microwave meal, took a hot shower, and sat down to read a book before bed. But something was different this time. As he turned a page in his novel, he heard a sound: a familiar sound, yet he didn’t immediately recognize it. After a few seconds he realized it was coming from the coffee table beside him. From his phone.

_ ONE NEW MESSAGE FROM: EREN JAEGER _

The book fell from his hands before he could mark his page. With shaking fingers, he unlocked the phone and read the message.

_ Armin- Idk if you kept my number, but this is Eren. I have so much I need to say to you, but for now all I can say is: I’m sorry. If you’re still in town, I’d like to meet up sometime soon. I understand if you can’t forgive me or don’t wanna face me, but please give me a chance. I mean, I even used spell check for this text!! ...in all seriousness, message me back. If you want. _

The following evening, Eren was standing in his living room.


End file.
